Heroes and Legacies Book 6: The Endgame
by pegasusdmac
Summary: Everything happens for a reason. Like my father before me, I was chosen by the Fates to fulfill a Great Prophecy. For years, I'd been searching for the reason the Fates chose me, a mere mortal, for this, and I finally found it, I finally understood why. The question now is: Can I overcome my fatal flaw to do what has to be done?
1. Chapter 1

1. Family

I was on my knees, and my hands were covered in blood—thick and sticky and warm. The blood refused to dry in the stifling heat and humidity and dripped from my fingers onto the scarred dirt and grass beneath me. I felt dazed and nauseous, looking at my trembling, blood-soaked hands. I couldn't swallow down the lump in my throat, and the tears in my eyes blurred my vision. I could hear a voice calling out to me, repeating my name, but it sounded so very far away. The voice was being drown-out by the ringing in my ears and the percussion of my pounding heart.

Someone gripped my shoulders firmly, and I tried to get away. I struggled against whoever had me in their clutches. As I fought, the distant voice became clearer. "Chase! Chase!" It was my father's voice. "Chase, wake up!"

I gasped and my eyes shot open. I was home, in my own bed, staring up at my dad. He was sitting on the edge of my bed, illuminated in the darkness by the dim bedside lamp.

"You're okay, son," he said in a firm yet reassuring tone. "You're okay."

I sat up and threw my arms around his neck. It might not have been very manly to hug my dad like that at my age, but he was my dad, I loved him, and I'd never be too old or too proud to hug him like I was still a little kid. And he didn't mind. He was there at three in the morning, comforting his teenage son who'd just had a terrifying nightmare, because he didn't mind.

These late-night rescues had become somewhat of a ritual. The nightmares began shortly before Thanksgiving and had come at least twice a week since. Mom and Dad rotated the three a.m. wake-up calls like they had when I was in infant. On the weekends when Noah stayed over, he'd take the wake-up-screaming-Chase shift, and during Lexie's two-week stay with me over Christmas break, she took the job.

It wasn't the same nightmare every time. There were four distinct dreams that had me screaming in the middle of the night, and all of them ended with blood on my hands. In three dreams, I didn't know whose blood it was, but I knew someone was dead, and it was my fault. In one dream, though, the blood was mine. I knew it was mine, because there was a gaping, burning wound in my chest, which meant I didn't have the curse of Achilles and I was dying.

I'd pinch myself after that dream just to make sure I still had the curse, and of course, I did. I never told anyone about that dream—not Noah or Lexie and certainly not my parents. I felt guilt in all the dreams, but I felt it even more in that one. I couldn't bear to think about what I'd be leaving behind and what an abandonment my death would be.

Once my breathing was under control, I released my dad from the chokehold. He gripped the nape of my neck and looked at me with a mixture of worry and understanding. "Better now?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay now. Thanks for waking me up."

"That's what dad's are for."

I attempted a smile, but I'm not sure my lips curled in the slightest.

"You want to talk about it?" He always asked, and I almost always refused. I'd described the dreams to my parents a few times, but as they'd continued to plague my sleep, I no longer needed to.

"Nightmare number two," I said, and he knew which one I was referring to. I'd labeled them one through three; nightmare number four, the one where the blood was mine, was my little secret.

He sighed. "Curse the Fates for putting you through this. I hate seeing you suffer night after night. I wish there was something I could do."

There was nothing he could do to stop the nightmares, but him simply being there for me meant more than he'd ever know. "You're doing all you can, Dad."

He gave my neck a firm squeeze and rested his forehead against mine. "I love you, son."

"I love you, too."

He kissed my head, because I was his son, he loved me, and I'd never be too old and he'd never be too proud to kiss my head like I was still a little kid. And I didn't mind. He'd pulled me out of horrible nightmares at three in the morning countless times in the last few months, so I didn't mind.

He ruffled my hair like he always did and asked, "You got any exams in the morning?"

I didn't. "No," I answered.

"Turn off your alarm and get some sleep. You can go to school late tomorrow. Just don't tell your mom."

I again attempted a smile. "I never do," I said.

Dad usually let me cut my first couple of classes when I had nights like this. Mom, not so much. Recently, I'd been missing more school and my grades had been slipping because of my sheer lack of sleep. The nightmares scared me so much, and it wasn't uncommon for me to stay awake for two or three days straight just to avoid them. The insomnia was beginning to take its toll. I was tired, so tired all the time.

Dad stood and patted the bed where he'd been sitting. Iolaus, our West Highland White Terrier who was lying at the foot of my bed, sauntered over the spot Dad indicated. The dog turned a circle then cozied up next to me. Dad petted his head. "Take care of him, Iolaus," he told the dog. Dad turned off the bedside lamp and said, "Try to sleep, Chase."

"I'll try," I told him.

Three anxiety-ridden hours later, I finally fell asleep while scratching behind Iolaus's ears the way he liked, and when I dreamed, I dreamed of my dog. I guess it was because he was the last thing on my mind when I dozed off.

I was walking him to the dog park for some exercise when suddenly he broke free from the leash and took off into a wooded area of the park. I ran after him, calling his name, but he just kept running. When I found him in the woods, I saw that he'd found something himself. It was a puppy—a wolf puppy.

The pup had a shiny silver and white coat and eyes as blue as the sky. The pup was young, but already as big as Iolaus, which was about twenty pounds. She was a playful little thing, and she and my terrier rolled and played like they'd been friends forever. I couldn't help but laugh at the sight of them romping around in the dirt and leaves.

"I think she likes him," said a voice from the past. Lily, the lieutenant of the Hunters of Artemis, stepped out of the shadows. "Hi, CJ."

I smiled, because even though she and I had our share differences, I considered her a friend, and it was good to see her. It had been a long time. "Hi, Lily. What are you doing here? And out of uniform?" I added, noticing she wasn't wearing the traditional Hunter garb, but was wearing faded blue jeans, a red blouse, and cowboy boots—an ensemble I'd seen her wear while we were in New Orleans two Christmases ago.

She shrugged. "This is your dream, so you tell me."

"Ah, so you're not really here; you're just a figment of my unconscious mind."

She smirked. "Sounds like your unconscious mind is trying to tell you something."

"That I should get in touch with you, maybe? You're not in trouble are you, Lily?"

"Seems like you're the one in trouble."

She was right about that.

"Trust me on this, CJ, from one leader to another, it's advantageous to have allies right now." To any random observer, those words would've sounded strange coming from a twelve year old, but the façade didn't fool me anymore. It was her eyes that gave her away. She may have worn the body of a young girl, but her eyes were all woman—strong, serious, sympathetic, and wise. "Don't hesitate to give me a call if you need help," she added.

"Thanks, Lily."

She whistled and the wolf pup came running up to her followed closely by Iolaus.

"She's yours?" I asked.

Lily nodded. "Echo reborn."

"She's beautiful. Do you call her Echo?"

"No, she doesn't have a name yet. I haven't come up with one that suits her. Any suggestions?"

I knelt down, examining the pup and giving her a vigorous rubdown. "What about Star? She's all shiny and twinkly like a star."

Lily laughed. "Star… I like it."

The pup tried to climb up on me when I stopped rubbing her tummy. She made a good leap and licked my face.

"Ack!" I opened my eyes to find Iolaus standing on my chest, licking my face to wake me up. I'm sure he needed to go out badly.

"Alright, buddy, I'm up," I said to him, which he responded with a happy tail wag.

Downstairs, I was pleasantly greeted by the smell of fresh-brewed coffee and not so pleasantly greeted by the sight of my mother sitting at the breakfast bar. What the heck was she doing home? It was after ten, so she should've been at work. From the look on her face, I could tell I was in deep shit.

She never said a word, only sipped her coffee as I walked through the kitchen and out the front door to take Iolaus for his walk. Any other morning it would've taken my dog twenty minutes to do his business and sniff everything that demanded to be sniffed, but not this morning. Instead of giving me twenty minutes to delay the wrath of my mom, he was done in five minutes and ready to go back home. It might've had something to do with the freezing temperature and the half-inch of snow on the ground. It was February after all.

Back in the kitchen, Mom was still sitting on her stool—calm, quiet, and collected. I knew that demeanor; she was about to have a come-apart. I poured myself a cup of coffee, stirred in two spoons of sugar, then sat down on the stool beside her.

"Why aren't you at school?" she asked.

"I didn't sleep well last night."

"So, you've been skipping school when you have the nightmares?" She was trying really hard not to yell at me for cutting class. She took my education very seriously.

"Not the whole day. Just a few morning classes."

"More than a few. Your principle called my office this morning. Apparently you've been late eight days in the last month alone. He said in addition to missing classes, your grades have fallen by a full letter in some subjects, and you're lethargic and inattentive when you do make it to school," she explained in a tone that was a combination of disappointment, anger, and maybe a little sympathy mixed in there too.

I hated that I'd disappointed my parents so much. I'd always tried to do really well in school and sports and be a great leader at Camp Half-Blood like they were, but I was only mortal and doing the best I could with what I had. It wasn't like I just decided not to try anymore. It was the nightmares; they had all but taken over my life.

"I'm lethargic and inattentive because I'm exhausted," I told her.

"Well, he thinks you're on drugs."

"What?" I gaped. "Mom, you know I'm not on drugs."

"Yes, I know. Though, I'm beginning to wonder if you should be."

"Uh…" I blinked. "Huh?"

She rolled her eyes. "Something to help you sleep, CJ. Not crack."

"You know what would help me sleep? The Fates not hijacking my dreams all the time."

She sighed. "Honey, I understand what it's like—"

"Do you, Mom? I mean, really? Did the Fates play out doomsday in your brain for months on end, all snipped yarn and bloody hands and guilt-ridden death? Did you not sleep for days at a time just to avoid the possibility of a paralyzing nightmare?"

She didn't answer; she only stared at me with her analyzing eyes. "What aren't you telling me, CJ?"

That woman could read me like an open book. It was so annoying. "You don't wanna know," I told her.

"I think I do."

I shook my head. "No, you really don't."

"Dammit, CJ, what could possibly be so bad that you can't even tell your own mother?"

"I die! In one of my nightmares, I die!" And as soon as I said it, I regretted it.

I just wanted her off my back, but when the color drained from her face and she froze like a statue, I wanted to take the words back so badly. She knew dreams had meaning and could foretell future events, and I knew telling her about my dream would hurt her. That was why I hadn't done it. And that was why I wished I hadn't just done it.

"Mom, I…" I didn't know what to say.

She slammed her hand on the bar, causing our coffee cups to shake. "No! You're not going to die, CJ. That won't happen. It _can't_ happen." Wise Girl had exited the building and was replaced by Delusional Mother.

"It can happen. I've seen it happen. I've felt it. I know it's not set in stone. The dreams are on a spinning wheel, and when the time comes, whichever one it stops on will be the one to play out, but the possibility is there. The prophecy says there will be a loss of a hero, and that hero could very well be me."

"You can't think like that."

"I have no choice but to think like that. And you and Dad need to prepare yourselves for the possibility that I may not be coming home from camp this time."

She didn't respond other than taking my coffee away from me and pouring it down the sink. She never liked that I drank coffee. She grabbed a bagel out of the fridge, poured a glass of orange juice, and gave them to me. She draped her arm over my shoulders and led me into the living room where we settled onto the couch.

"Let's find a movie to watch," she said, grabbing the TV remote.

"You're not going back to work?" I asked.

She brushed my unruly hair out of my eyes and gave me a warm smile. "Not today. Today, you and I are going to watch movies."

I snuggled up to my mom like I had when I was a little kid. And she didn't mind. She loved me, I'd always be her baby, and she'd always be my mom no matter how old I was. She was missing a day of work to spend with her stressed-out son, because she didn't mind.

"I love you, Mom."

"I love you, too, sweetie. More than you'll ever know."

And I didn't complain about her calling me sweetie, because today, I didn't mind.

**Disclaimer: I do not own PJO.**


	2. Chapter 2

2. Relationships

"CJ! We're leaving in five minutes!" Mom called from downstairs.

"Okay, Mom!" I shouted down to her then turned my attention back to the phone call I was on. "I've got five more minutes then I gotta go."

"Where are you going?"

"Therapy."

"How's that working out for you?"

"Great, actually," I admitted. "I was a little skeptical at first, but hypnotherapy has really curbed the nightmares. And it's a good thing, too. It saved my season."

"Baseball?" she asked, and I could virtually see her blue eyes rolling. "The best part of having fewer horrific nightmares is getting to play baseball?"

"Baseball is my meal ticket now. Since my grades fell, I couldn't get into Columbia, so getting into UConn to play collegiate baseball is riding on me having a good season."

"And are you? Having a good season?"

"Yeah, so far it's been awesome, and it helps me keep my mind off all the bad stuff."

"I wish I could see you play. I bet you look super-sexy in that baseball uniform."

I smiled to myself. "You know it."

She laughed. "Well, I'll let you go so you can get to your appointment."

"I'll call you later, and we'll talk business." Business was code for combat strategy. We'd been discussing that a lot lately.

"Okay. I love you, CJ."

"I love you, too."

I always hated hanging up with Lexie. I missed her so much, and our daily calls were the only thing that kept me from going crazy without her. The long-distance relationship was tough. It had been nearly three months since I'd seen her in person, but we were planning to spend spring break together at her house in Miami. That trip was only a few weeks away, and I couldn't wait. To see Lexie that is. Now seeing her mother…totally different story.

Thalia had always been good to me, but that was when Lexie and I were just friends. Now that we were a couple, I didn't know how she'd feel about me. Lexie said her mom was okay with our relationship and her exact words were _it's about time_, so maybe I was worrying for nothing.

Last year, Noah and I had gone down to Miami to spend spring break with Lexie and her mom, but that trip was all business. We spent most of the trip getting a crash-course in modern weaponry from Thalia and the bounty hunters. This year was different, though. I was going to Florida to enjoy a weeklong vacation with my girlfriend, not to train. And Noah wouldn't be making the long trip with me this year either. He was spending his spring break in Manhattan with his girlfriend; Morgan was flying in from Georgia. He'd been so pumped about it. Like me, he didn't get to see his girlfriend very often outside of camp, and he really missed her a lot.

Once I got to Miami on spring break, Lexie and I spent our first days together in three months getting caught up and tangled up. We spent every moment together, and it was wonderful. It was only after I'd been there for a few days that Thalia and I finally talked.

Lexie and I were on the sofa in the living room, watching a movie, and she had fallen asleep. She'd curled up with a blanket and was using my leg as a pillow. I was running my fingers through her hair when I heard Thalia call to me from the back patio. "CJ, come here for a minute."

I eased off the couch, careful not to wake Lexie and walked the short distance to the back door that led to the patio. The door was open, so I walked on out to where Thalia was standing.

She pointed into the backyard. "Do you see her?" she asked about the alligator that was making its way across the lawn.

It was dark outside, but the moon lit up the yard enough for me to see the enormous gator. "How could I miss her? She's huge."

"That's Alli. She's been nesting here for years. She always lays her eggs during the March full moon," Thalia explained.

"I saw her when I was here a few summers ago," I recalled. "You know, when you were sick."

"You and Lexie saved my life that summer."

I shrugged. "It was mostly Lexie who did the saving. I just sorta tagged along on her quest. She would've gone to the ends of the Earth to save you—done anything and taken on anyone. She's fearless."

"And that fearlessness could get her killed one day. Maybe one day soon."

Thalia knew the impending danger we were facing. She knew there would be casualties when we went to war with the Rebellion, just like there were casualties in the wars she fought back in her days as a Hunter. No doubt she'd considered the possibility of Lexie being one of those casualties. My nightmares made me consider it, too, and my heart always skipped a few beats at the thought.

"I won't let that happen," I assured her.

"You're saying you'll protect her?"

"With my life. I always have and I always will."

"That's something you and I have in common," Thalia said, giving me an approving smile, then she stared up at the full moon with longing.

"You miss Lady Artemis and the Hunt, huh?" I asked.

"Sometimes," she said then turned and looked at Lexie sleeping soundly on the couch. "But I think it all worked out for the best, don't you?"

Thalia loved her daughter more than anything else in the world, and so did I—something else we had in common. I stared at my beautiful girlfriend and nodded, "Yes, ma'am."

She smiled. "You remind me so much of your father."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing? Because most people say I'm more like Mom."

"Oh, you're definitely your mother's son, but right now, being like your father is a good thing. The way you look at my daughter, that's the same way your father looks at your mother."

"I love her, Thalia."

"I know you do. And I'm glad you do."

It seemed I had Thalia's stamp of approval, which was a huge relief. Thalia was not someone you wanted to be on bad terms with. As far as the rest of Lexie's family went, her aunt Calypso was tickled to death when she heard Lexie and I were…what did she call it? Going steady? Whatever, she was happy for us, but Jason was another story.

Jason Grace wasn't born yesterday; there wasn't a naïve cell in his body. He'd lived a life I couldn't even imagine. He'd seen and done it all, and his instincts told him just how _close_ his niece and I were. I could tell he did not approve, but he also knew how much we loved each other, so instead of telling me to keep my hands off his niece, he told me to treat her right, be the very best man I could be for her, and never take a single moment together for granted, because the next moment wasn't guaranteed. Wise words from a wise man who'd once tragically lost a girl he loved.

I'd yet to get a blessing or blasting from Lexie's father and grandfather, so I wasn't sure how those gods felt about it or if they even cared.

My parents were delighted that Lexie and I were finally a couple, and Uncle Nico and Aunt Rachel were so proud that both Noah and I had finally found the courage to get the girls.

Noah and Morgan were as happy for Lexie and me as we were for them. Noah had originally said he and Morgan were going to take things slow, but by the end of last summer, they were exclusive and absolutely crazy about each other.

When we all left camp at the end of the summer, we were all faced with the same dilemma: distance. Noah was in New Jersey and I was in New York, but Lexie was in California and Morgan was in Georgia.

It was tough on all of us. It seemed like we'd just got started when we had to say goodbye. It was only temporary, but it still sucked—something Morgan and I discussed often. Yes, Morgan and I talked these days. After our forced cooperation last summer, we'd started to get along. She still gave me hell, but I was learning how to dish it out right back at her.

Every Tuesday night, Morgan and I would text for two hours. She was attending Georgia Tech, and on Tuesday nights she had an economics class she absolutely hated, so she'd text me instead of listening to the lecture. And the reason she was texting me instead of Noah was to avoid the lecture from him about her not paying attention in class. I didn't care if she paid attention or not. She was a grown-up; she could do what she wanted.

She often mentioned how much she missed Noah and wished there was a way to just erase the distance. I complained about the same thing. I wanted Lexie in New York with me, and I wanted her to come to Connecticut with me in the fall—you know, if I made it to the fall.

Morgan and I didn't just discuss our relationship woes. Because of the nightmares she and I had both been having, we had plenty of other things to discuss, like the Rebellion and the inevitable war that was going to take place this summer.

We'd all been having nightmares, but mine seemed to be more frequent and more intense than the others'. Hazard of being the child of prophecy, I guess. We weren't having the same dreams; everyone's nightmares were unique, but they all had a common theme: tragedy.

Morgan and I shared details about our nightmares and discovered they had a frightening similarity: Blood. She had blood on her hands, too. We weren't sure what that commonality meant, but it scared us both.

Lexie didn't like to talk about the nightmares—hers or mine. I didn't blame her; I didn't like to talk about them either, especially not to her. One morning though, I caught a glimpse into one of her dreams.

It was my last day in Miami when I woke at five in the morning to the sound of Lexie's voice. I pulled myself off the sofa in the living room and made my way to her bedroom door. The door was slightly ajar and I peeked in to see that she was still asleep, but she was twitching and talking in her sleep.

At first her voice sounded pleading as she begged someone to stop, then her tone switched to anger when she began cursing. Then a name escaped her lips: Jason.

I wasn't sure if she was referring to her uncle Jason Grace or her cousin Jason Finn. Her tone suggested that it was her cousin whom she was dreaming about. It was no secret that she despised Finn. He had kidnapped and drugged her, hit her, and put a gun to her head. To her credit though, she'd done some pretty nasty things to him in return, but hey, he deserved it. He was with the Rebellion. He was a killer. And though he was her family and she'd tried to hold onto that, she couldn't anymore, not after all he'd done.

She and her uncle Jason had gotten into it several times over Finn. As I said before, Jason Grace wasn't naïve, but Finn was his son, and being the great man that he was, Jason wasn't ready to give up on him. Lexie had given up on her cousin and tried to convince her uncle that there was no saving Finn, but Jason held onto the hope that he could help his son find the right path.

I could understand Jason not wanting to concede that his child was too far gone to save, but I tended to agree with Lexie. After all he'd done to me, my friends, and my girlfriend, I didn't think he could really change.

When Lexie's nightmare got so intense that she started screaming, I rushed into her room and woke her up. I sat on the edge of her bed and held her in my arms like she'd done for me during Christmas break when she woke me from horrific nightmares.

She buried her head in my shoulder, and I could feel her warm tears soaking through my tee shirt. I held her tight, letting her know she was safe.

"I'm here," I whispered. "I've got you. You're okay."

She looked up at me, and I helped her wipe the tears from her cheeks. "I hate that you have to see me like this," she grumbled. She hated anyone seeing her weak, including me.

I gave her a little smile. "You've seen me worse," I reminded her. "That's just part of it, Lexie. We're together now, and we're going to see each other at our most vulnerable points sometimes. It's the fact that we help each other through those lows and don't judge one another that makes what we have even stronger. I love you, and that'll never change no matter how much you cry."

She gave me a soft kiss on my lips. "I love you, too. Even though you cry more than me," she added with a little laugh.

"I do not," I pouted.

She laughed again and rested her head on my chest. "I wish you didn't have to leave today," she sighed.

"Me, too," I agreed. "Me, too."


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: My life is about to get chaotic (school), so I may not be able to update weekly anymore, but I'll try. We'll see how it goes.**

3. Allies and Enemies

Since the end of last summer, I'd been in contact with a number of groups in regards to the upcoming war. I'd been proactive in recruiting allies. By all estimates, the Rebellion had Camp Half-Blood outnumbered at least ten to one, so we'd need help to have any chance of winning the war. I didn't particularly like asking other people to risk their lives for this, but the Rebellion's havoc spread farther than just Camp Half-Blood; many other groups had reason to ally with us.

Everyday, Lexie and I would discuss strategy and the status of the coalition we'd set up between the Greeks and Romans. The legion had a force as large as the Greeks, so we doubled the manpower with that allegiance alone. Almost a dozen Roman centurions had gone missing, and like our own missing campers, were believed to be dead at the hands of the Rebellion. We had a common enemy and were willing to work together to take out that enemy.

After dreaming of Lily in February, I immediately got in touch with her. Seven Hunters and Lily's wolf, Echo, had been slaughtered by the Rebellion, as well as many of their potential recruits being swayed by Barka's smooth-talk and passion for his cause to join the Rebellion instead of the Hunt. Lily wanted justice. She assured me she and her Hunters were our allies and asked me to keep her appraised of the situation. I'd send her an IM every couple of weeks to keep her updated.

Lexie had contacted the Amazons through her connections within the legion and many eagerly jumped on board as they'd been affected much like the Hunters had. Chiron had agreed to round up the cavalry—the Party Ponies itching to join the fight. Lexie and I were also able to recruit some of the young bounty hunters-in-training and some of the legacy children of the tenured bounty hunters while we were in Miami during spring break.

In addition to those allied groups, I stumbled upon a few…unlikely people who were willing to assist us in the upcoming war.

On my drive back to New York from Miami, I stopped at a little hole-in-the-wall diner off I-95 in South Carolina where I randomly ran into an old nemesis turned friend. Ruby Boundreaux, a voodoo priestess I met in New Orleans, was sitting at a table in the back. Ruby had been hired by Barka to transfer my curse to him. It didn't work out for him, and in the end, Ruby helped me. I sat down at her table, and after our mutual surprise at seeing each other in The-Middle-of-Nowhere, South Carolina, we struck up a conversation. She still felt bad for what happened in New Orleans and felt like she owed me. I didn't ask, but she insisted on helping fight the Rebellion when I told her about Barka's promise of war. I think she was pissed at him for the way things went down in that warehouse.

Coincidentally, a few weeks later, I bumped into another specially skilled person I'd met the same Christmas that I'd met Ruby. My Jeep had been in the body shop for repairs, because some jackass in a tricked-out Escalade rear-ended me in Midtown. I was forced to take the subway until it was fixed. One day while riding the train home from a friend's house in Brooklyn, all hell broke loose. Shortly after leaving the platform, the train suddenly stopped, all the lights went out, and a loud screech echoed through the passenger car. I couldn't see a thing in the pitch black and neither could the other passengers. They were all screaming, terrified by the unearthly noise. I drew my sword, guessing a monster was there for me. My celestial bronze blade provided some illumination, but it was swiftly knocked from my grip and I was knocked to the floor by the still unknown beast. That's when things got weird. Sparks flew and colorful lights flashed all around. It was like a fireworks show inside the passenger car. The beast, which I caught a glimpse of in the strobes of light, looked like nothing I'd ever seen before, and it cried out in pain as the tiny balls of multi-colored fire hit it. I also caught a glimpse of the person responsible for the pyrotechnics. He was someone I'd met before, an Egyptian magician named Seth Kane. I retrieved my sword and assisted Seth in destroying the threat, after which he grabbed my arm and we exited the train, running down the track and away from the scene. By the time we'd made it back up to street level, we'd had plenty of time to discuss all manner of strangeness. After hearing my tales of the Rebellion and the upcoming war, he wanted in. He had people with power that could help and would be willing to fight. I told him it wasn't his fight, but he wouldn't take no for an answer. He had my back, and I had made a new friend.

It wasn't a hard sell or even a sell at all. All those groups wanted to come together to fight on the side of half-bloods. In one way or another, most had been affected by the Rebellion's mission to wipe demigods from existence, and they were ready and willing to defend this family of godly descendents from extinction at the hands of ambitious clear-sighted mortals.

I thought I was ready too, but as summer approached, I started having second thoughts. I kept thinking about what Abigail Mason, mortal granddaughter of Hephaestus and Rebellion officer, had said to me when I'd first learned of the Rebellion four years ago.

She'd said, "Understand, Chase, not all clear-sighted mortals and legacies have been as lucky as you. We come from broken homes and broken families with broken dreams. Most legacies in our organization are orphans who watched their demigod or legacy parent be slain by a monster. Others, like myself, are runaways from a disturbed and traumatized parent who never explained what it was we were seeing. Most of our clear-sighted mortals were on the brink of being incarcerated or committed when we recruited them. We never had the opportunities to acquire the tools and skills to cope with the mystical world like you did. We've been forgotten, left behind by this strange world we live in, and because we have nowhere else to turn, we turn to one another. We've given these kids a home, a family, and a purpose, but most of all, we've given them hope that someday they'll have a normal life."

I'd never forgotten those words. They'd haunted me for four years. She made a good argument, one I'd tried to ignore, given their actions against us. But her point still carried weight, a weight I had the burden of carrying around somewhere in the back of my mind and my heart.

And then there was Barka. He truly believed what he was doing was for the greater good, the best thing for his group, but the road to Hell is paved with good intentions. He'd done vile things in the name of hope: kidnapping, torture, murder. All of them unforgivable, but none without cause.

When I first met him, I thought he was just a sociopath who was so pissed off at the world for having been born with clear-sight that he wanted to destroy everything just out of spite. It wasn't until he tried to take the curse of Achilles from me did I learn the real reason for his actions, the reason he'd sacrificed his own soul for the chance of giving other clear-sighted mortals a better life.

He was damaged. Since he was a little kid, he'd lived a life filled with loss and tragedy—diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia as a child, institutionalized, abandoned by his parents, and losing his best friend to suicide at the age of thirteen. And all of those things had been the result of him having manifested clear-sight at a young age. He didn't want anyone else living the kind of life he had.

The unfortunate truth was _that was_ how the other half lived—the other half who were just like me, but hadn't been as lucky as me. Perhaps Barka and his followers didn't deserve my sympathies after all they'd done and all the demigods they'd killed, but they got it anyway, because that could've been me.

One random tragedy could've put me in the same position, the same state of mind. What if my parents had died when I was a child? What if they'd decided not to tell me about the world of gods and monsters? What if my parents had been like Mason's father—a drunk who'd been so traumatized by the demigod life that he didn't care about anything, including his child?

Any one of those things could have put me on the same path as Barka and his followers. It was a humbling notion, and it was also one that made my fatal flaw rear its ugly head. I had compassion for those afflicted and alienated legacies and clear-sighted mortals. I didn't want to kill them. Most of them didn't deserve to die. Their situation was beyond their control, and they took refuge with Barka and the Rebellion, because they had nowhere else to go. And that was on us.

The camps and groups who catered to half-bloods should've done something about this long ago. Legacies and clear-sighted mortals had been abandoned to fend for themselves, even though they lived in the same world as half-bloods. I got lucky. I was one of the few mortals taken in by Camp Half-Blood, and I had parents who gave me all the resources I'd ever need to cope and survive in the world of walking nightmares. Every member of the Rebellion should've been given the same. If they had, we wouldn't be in this situation. We wouldn't be about to engage in a civil war with mortals—some of whom were our own family—if we'd helped them and offered them a safe haven like we did for half-bloods. I wasn't sure if it hadn't been done out of arrogance or ignorance, but either way, our failure to recognize these people as our own was what started this whole thing. This was our fault, and we had to own it.

And I suddenly realized why the Fates had chosen me, why I was the child of this Great Prophecy. I was chosen, because it could've been me. In a tragic twist, I could've been one of those mortal legacies who were abandoned by the strange world I lived in. And because of my empathy, I was the one who could change things. I was the only one who could make things right. Something had to be done about the injustice done to these people who lived in our world. They couldn't be left behind anymore. I was the one to understand that, and I was the one with enough compassion to do something about it.

"I bet you hate me," I said to my dad after explaining my hesitations. I always felt comfortable talking to my dad about tough issues. He usually gave good advice.

"Don't you ever say that," he demanded. "I love you, Chase. No matter what. Never doubt that."

"I just feel like I'm betraying you and Mom and Lexie...everyone by sympathizing with a group of people who are out to kill all of you."

"Chase, you're not one of us, you never were. And I don't mean that in a bad way, I'm just saying you're not a demigod. I understand your position. The Rebellion, they're like you. You sympathize with them; I get it, and I hope you can somehow prevent this civil war, but eventually you may have to choose a side and fight. And whichever side you choose is entirely up to you."

"I've chosen my side. I'm fighting on the side of half-bloods," I assured him. "I just wish it didn't have to come to that, come to war."

"War never stops. It's been happening since the dawn of time and it'll continue long after we're gone. I believe in you and your abilities to lead, but considering your enemy, I don't think there's much you can do to avoid a war. The peace and change that can be made afterward is what you have to think about. Peace and change that you, as a leader, can make happen."

"You made big changes happen after the Titan War, didn't you?"

"Apparently not big enough," he sighed. "But yeah, I chose peace and change over immortality. And if you win this war, it'll be your job to make changes for the better."

"Wait, I thought you chose Mom over immortality."

He blinked. "That's not the point."

"No, the point is you just tried to pull one over on me, talking all noble about peace and change being the reason you didn't take the gods up on their offer of immortality."

"Don't tell your mother I said that."

I smiled, then a thought hit me. "Do you think Lexie will understand why I'm struggling with this?" I asked him.

He shrugged. "I don't know. The Rebellion has kidnapped her, tried to kill her, and almost killed her mother. If she doesn't understand, she has her reasons, but if she loves you the way I think she does, she'll at least try to understand."

"Way to make me feel like an ass, Dad," I groaned. "The Rebellion doing those horrible things to my girlfriend are reasons I should hate them and want to take them out."

"You should, but you don't, right?"

"I… I don't know. It's just so complicated. I feel so conflicted."

"And you should. Going to war with mortals and inevitably killing some of them is not something to be taken lightly. It's a moral dilemma I wouldn't wish on anyone, especially not my son. You're in a tough position, Chase, but you're smart like your mother, so I know you'll figure it out." While Dad gave good advice, he'd never tell me what I should do or which direction to go. He made me figure it out on my own, which was both frustrating and constructive.

"I have one question, Dad, and I want an honest answer."

He nodded. "Shoot."

"If you were in my shoes, what would you do?"

"Whatever it takes to keep the people I care about safe," he said simply and without thought or hesitation. His personal loyalty was what drove him and made the decision an easy one.

I wished it was that easy for me.


	4. Chapter 4

4. The Good and the Bad

Despite my dread of the upcoming war, the stress of the nightmares, and the distance from my girlfriend, my life was actually going great when summer arrived. I'd managed to graduate from high school with academic and athletic honors, and I received an athletic scholarship to the University of Connecticut where I'd be the proud wearer of a UConn Huskies baseball uniform for the next four years.

My parents were so proud of me. I thought I'd disappointed my mom when I didn't get into Columbia, but she was far from disappointed. She was proud that I'd followed my dream of playing collegiate baseball and was happy that I'd chosen UConn, since it was a really good school and it was close enough to Manhattan that I could come home to visit on the weekends.

My parents showed their pride by surprising me with a badass graduation gift. They bought me a new ride. The old Jeep Wrangler I'd been driving for two years had been good to me and I loved it, but it had a ton of miles on it and needed some work, so Mom and Dad got me an upgrade—a brand new Jeep Wrangler Unlimited. (Yes, I was a spoiled rich kid; I'd made my peace with that.) It was the bigger four-door Jeep; my old one was only two-door. Jet-black with a black hard-top, black rims, and tinted windows, it was a beast! I was in love.

And speaking of love, the best thing in my life would be back in my arms soon, and that was greatest of all. I couldn't wait to see Lexie, but I'd have to for just a few more days.

"Did she say why she'd be late getting to camp?" Noah asked from the shotgun seat of my new Jeep as we headed to Camp Half-Blood for the summer.

"Apparently the Romans are having a big ceremony for their graduates tomorrow night, and since Lexie's a graduate, she's gotta be there. Oh, and they'll be announcing the rank promotions, too. She made tribunus!" I beamed, so proud of my girl.

"Tribunus?" Noah asked. His Latin was sketchy at best.

I translated, "Commander."

"Impressive," he smiled. "She'll be praetor before you know it."

"No, she won't."

Noah frowned. "Why not? You don't think she can do it?"

"Oh, I know she can do it, but she doesn't want to be praetor. She's not going back to the legion. She asked to be discharged once the war is over, and her request was granted."

"She's moving out east, huh?" he grinned and winked.

I blinked. "How'd you know?"

"Morgan. She mentioned Lexie might be going to UConn, too. You talk her into that?"

"No. She wasn't sure where she wanted to go to school or even if she wanted to go at all. I asked her to think about coming to UConn with me. That's it. She made the decision on her own."

"Didn't hurt that UConn has one of the best NCAA archery teams either, huh?"

"It'll be her first step toward making the archery team in the next Olympics. That's her goal."

"Not ambitious, is she?" he laughed.

"With her talent, there's no reason she shouldn't be."

"True story."

When we arrived at camp, I pulled into my usual parking space in the van shed, and Noah helped me cover my Jeep with a tarp. The tarp wasn't for protection from the elements, but to keep the Hermes kids from spotting my shiny new toy and no doubt, jacking it. Once my ride was hidden, Noah grabbed his duffel and hurried into camp, leaving me behind. He had someone to see. His girlfriend, Morgan, was already here, had been for a week.

My first stop was the Big House to check-in with my mentor. I made it as far as the front door when Grover stopped me.

"Where you headed?" he asked nervously, shuffling me away from the door. I didn't get a "_Hey, CJ!_", "_How you been?_" or even a "_Kiss my ass._" I got the equivalent of a stop-and-frisk right there on the porch.

I rolled my eyes at the satyr. "It's good to see you too, Grover," I grumbled.

"Sorry, CJ. It is good to see you and you look good. Nice haircut." I could tell Grover was on edge, twitchy, and nervous. I was surprised he hadn't started bleating like a goat.

I tossed my duffel by the porch rail and sat down in one of the old wooden chairs. "Something's up, so spill," I said, gesturing for him to start talking.

"What makes you think that?" he asked as he began to pace the porch.

I just tilted my head and arched an eyebrow to display my annoyance at his attempt to stall.

"Dude, that's so Annabeth, it's creepy."

I ignored his comment that I was my mother and continued to stare at him.

"Blaa-ha-ha, fine. It's Chiron. He's locked himself in his office."

That was weird. "Why? For how long?" I asked.

"Two days. And I don't know why."

I gave him the Annabeth-look again. He knew why. He just didn't want to tell me.

"Okay, I might know why," he admitted. "He got a package the other day—a big envelope with a folder inside. He opened the folder, immediately shut it, then went into his office and hasn't come out."

"What was in the folder?" I asked.

Grover shrugged. "I don't know, but it couldn't have been good if it caused him to hole-up in his office."

I stood up from my seat. "I'll go check on him."

"He won't answer the door for anyone."

"He might for me. I'll give it a shot."

I walked to Chiron's office and knocked on the door. No answer. I knocked again and called out, "Chiron. Chiron, it's CJ. Can I come in?"

I could hear his motorized wheelchair humming, and in just a minute, he opened the door. "Come in, Chase. And lock the door behind you."

I did as he said. He wheeled himself around behind his desk, and I sat down in a chair opposite him. I didn't say anything. I was going to let him get his bearings first, because he looked pretty rattled. He had dark circles under his eyes like maybe he hadn't slept in a few days and his beard and hair were a mess.

"You just arrived, I take it?" he asked.

I nodded. "Noah and I just got here."

He shuffled some papers around on his desk. "How are the nightmares? Still frequent?"

"The hypnotherapy's helped a lot."

"That's good to hear. Your parents were worried the dreams would drive you mad."

"Yeah, so was I, and speaking of madness, Grover said you haven't come out of your office in days. You look like you haven't slept in that time, either."

He tried to smooth his hair and beard as best he could and said, "I've been busy."

"Doing what?"

"Making calls."

"Calls?" I asked.

He passed a folder across the desk to me. "Before you open it, prepare yourself," he warned me. "The images are disturbing."

I didn't know what I was about to see, so I took a deep breath and opened the folder. I immediately wanted to close it, but I couldn't look away from the photos inside. I flipped through them in morbid fascination.

There were seven photos and a postcard inside the folder. The photos were of campers, missing campers. I spread out the photos of the deceased campers onto the desk and examined them. Each photo contained the image of an individual demigod that had been MIA for two or more years. I'd always feared they were dead, but this confirmed it. The photos weren't gruesome; there was no sign of torture. They were simply dead, each with one round to the chest.

"The calls," I said with a slight hitch in my voice. "You were calling their families?"

"Yes," Chiron answered. "It is a gut-wrenching obligation. Even after all these years, losing students and informing their families never gets any easier."

Those words hit me pretty hard, because I knew he'd have many more families to call once the battle started. I imagined him having to tell my parents, who he cared for deeply, that I had died in the fight. I imagined him having to tell any of his former students, like Thalia, Nico, or Katie, that their child had died. Gut-wrenching didn't even come close, and I almost couldn't keep it together at the thought.

"I'm sorry," I choked out.

He gave me a slight nod of acknowledgement then pointed at the postcard that accompanied the pictures. "It's addressed to you," he said.

I picked it up and looked it over. The image on the front was an open field of green grass with a large forest in the background. In the foreground was an American Civil War-era cannon. The print at the bottom read: Fredericksburg and Spotsylvania National Military Park, site of the Battle of Chancellorsville. On the reverse was a note that read: We'll be waiting, Jackson.

"Virginia," I said. "Lily said her scouts had placed the Rebellion's headquarters near Richmond."

"Mmm," he nodded, stroking his beard. "It's not the first time that city has been home to a rebel force."

"The irony's not lost on me. Richmond was the capital of the Confederacy during the Civil War. But Chancellorsville… Barka's sending me a message."

Chiron frowned. "How so?"

"The Rebels won the Battle of Chancellorsville, and Stonewall Jackson was fatally wounded in that battle. He means to kill me, Chiron."

He nodded slowly, digesting that, then said, "Well, we'll just have to ruin his plan then, won't we?"

We scheduled a strategy session for the day after tomorrow, when all the counselors would be at camp, then I left the Big House and went straight to Cabin 3.

My cabin smelled of sea spray, which had an immediate calming effect on my nerves. I unpacked my duffel, putting everything in its place, then collapsed onto my bunk. The faint scent of lavender that still lingered on my pillow after all these months was also calming, if not a little arousing. My bed smelled like my girlfriend; that's enough to get any man's blood flowing.

Before the memories of the nights Lexie and I spent together last summer could fill my mind, my cabin door opened and a baseball came flying at my head. I instantly reacted, catching the baseball with my bare hand.

I sat up in my bunk and looked toward the door. Five feet, two inches and ninety-five pounds of sass was leaning against the door frame, her emerald green eyes staring back at me.

"Whatcha doin'?" she asked. "Nappin'?"

"No, I was thinking."

"Oh gods, don't hurt yourself."

I narrowed my eyes at her. "Ha-ha, shut-up."

Morgan smiled and waved for me to get up. "Grab your glove and come on. I got somethin' to show ya."

I grabbed my Mets cap and baseball glove off the dresser and followed Morgan out into the commons area. I noticed she had her glove, too. "Where are we going?" I asked her.

"I got a surprise for ya."

"Should I be scared?"

She shrugged and smirked, "Maybe."

I followed her past the lake and strawberry fields toward the arena. We walked around to the backside of the arena where I stopped in my tracks and stared in awe.

"It—it's a baseball field," I stated the obvious.

The empty lot behind the arena that was sometimes used for javelin training or a firing range had been transformed into the Sandlot. It wasn't fancy, just a dirt infield, grass outfield, bases, and an elevated pitcher's mound. There were a few bleachers set up around the diamond, and they were filled with campers.

"You did this?" I asked her, still staring at the new field.

"Yep. I had some help, though."

"You made me a baseball field."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. You ain't that special. It's for everybody."

I turned to Morgan, almost misty-eyed. "I'm going to hug you now," I said to her.

She blinked. "The hell you are!" She tried backing away, but I was able to wrap her in a bear hug—more to annoy her than anything. See, the giving and receiving hell went both ways now.

"Wait—stop—dammit," she chided as she tried to wiggle away from me. I finally let her push me away. "Don't you ever do that again," she ordered.

I heard laughing to our right and saw Noah bowed over, laughing hysterically at us.

"Oh, shut it, Noah!" she barked at her boyfriend in a tone more playful than annoyed.

I turned back to Morgan and said, "Seriously, though, thanks for this. It's a great addition to camp."

She shrugged. "I figured it'd be a good distraction and morale booster. It's pretty tense 'round here."

"Yeah," I nodded, fully feeling the tension myself.

"Hey!" Noah called to us. "Come on, you two. We need to pick teams."

Morgan and I were named team captains, and we each selected our roster from the group of campers who were itching to try out the new field. And we played several action-packed games of softball. It was a blast.

During the games, I'd all but forgotten about the pictures of dead demigods, the upcoming war, and Barka's subtle death-threat. I was just out on the field, doing what I loved and having fun with my friends. Sometimes when I looked around at all the smiling faces, I'd wonder who among them wouldn't be coming home from the war. I hoped that all of them would survive the fight, but that was wishful thinking. There was going to be death, but it wouldn't be today, so I shoved those thoughts from my mind and enjoyed the afternoon at the ballpark.


	5. Chapter 5

5. New Arrivals

As luck would have it—or the lack thereof—the nightmares returned on my very first night at camp. Not surprising really. It had been over a week since my last hypnotherapy session, and without regular visits to my therapist, the nightmares would creep back in. Plus the tension was on the rise now that it was summer. Destiny was closing in at mach speed, and the Fates were making sure I remembered that fact. I guess I'd have to drag one of the Hypnos campers out of slumber tomorrow for an impromptu hypnotherapy session. Maybe the amateurs in that cabin wouldn't fry my brain.

I'd really enjoyed my first day at camp, even though it had started out and ended on severely depressing notes. Aside from the photos of dead campers and the nightmare that had me waking up screaming, the afternoon of ball, a hearty supper, and an upbeat sing-along at the campfire made things seem almost normal.

Day two brought me snapping back to reality. Noah and I spent the entire day knee-deep in logistics: headcounts, armament counts, distribution of body armor and weaponry, assigning ranks, excreta. Not as fun as playing ball, but it did give me the opportunity to talk to everyone and kind of flesh-out how they were feeling about going into battle, which ranged from barely-containable excitement to pants-wetting terror. Most, though, were feeling ready, just a little nervous. I envied them. I was edge-of-panic-attack nervous.

Once everyone had been issued their combat gear, Noah and I kicked back for a little break before the dinner-bell.

"What was the headcount?" I asked Noah, who was flipping through the roster on the clipboard he was holding.

"One fifty-three," he said. "We got twenty-one stragglers who won't be here for a few days yet." Being only the twenty-ninth day of May, it was still early-summer, and several campers weren't here yet—my girlfriend included.

"A few of those kids were new," I recalled from my conversations. "I want them cut. They haven't had training for this. They'd be useless in the fight and unnecessary casualties."

Noah started marking a line through a few names on his sheet. "Agreed," he nodded. "We can leave them here to hold down the fort. Argus can keep an eye…er, his eyes on them."

I hesitated before I spoke again. "I'd like Morgan to stay behind, too," I said carefully, because I wasn't sure how Noah would feel about that.

"You and me both, bro," he sighed, never looking up from his clipboard. I guess the thought had crossed his mind as well. "But you know Morgan, she won't have it."

He was right, of course. She'd throw a screaming, cussing fit if I told her she had to stay behind and babysit the newbies. But babysitting wasn't the reason I wanted her to stay at camp while the rest of us went off to war. She was mortal; that was the reason. Now maybe that sounds hypocritical since I'm mortal, but I had the curse of Achilles, she didn't. I'd seen how war treated her a couple of summers ago when we had our little vacation in the past. She'd fought well in the Titan War, but she got banged up a lot worse than the rest of us. She couldn't take nectar or ambrosia to heal her battle wounds like demigods could, which left her at a real disadvantage. Wounds that would be only minor to demigods could be potentially fatal to her.

"You've talked to her about it?" I asked Noah.

"Many times and she's dead-set on going." He shrugged. "I can't stop her from going anymore than you could stop Lexie from going."

I smiled a bit. "They're a pair of strong-willed women, aren't they?"

He smiled too. "Wouldn't want them any other way."

"Did I hear something about strong women?" said an approaching voice.

I looked up and smiled at the strong woman walking toward us. "I bet your ears were burning," I said to her.

Noah turned to the girl and blinked in surprise. "Lily Valdez," he greeted with a nod. "Good to see you, lieutenant."

"Likewise, Noah. It's been a while."

She sat down in the grass facing Noah and I, who were also sitting, leaning our backs against the exterior wall of the armory.

"I wasn't expecting you so soon," I said to her.

She shrugged. "I wasn't expecting it either, but I've heard there's been a development."

I nodded. "There has. We have a location."

"Virginia?"

"An old Civil War battlefield," Noah told her. "Just north of Richmond."

"Figures," she said. "They want this to go down on their turf. It gives them an advantage."

"I've got the Athena kids making detailed maps of the area from sat images," I said. "We'll have a good idea of the lay of the land soon."

"Have you thought about how you're going to transport your troops down there?" she asked.

I'd thought about it. There were too many campers and too much cargo and equipment to take the vans. We'd need something big, really big, and Lily would be the key to that. I didn't want to tell her my plan just yet, though. I'd have to be a jerk and ambush her with it when she was in a position where she couldn't refuse. "I've got something in mind," I said to her. "I'll get back to you on that when I work out the details."

She frowned momentarily, but then let it go. She didn't like that I was withholding information, but as a leader, she knew it was sometimes necessary. "Keep me posted," she said, then turned her attention to Noah. "So, Noah, how 'bout you introduce me to this girlfriend of yours?"

"Only if you promise not to recruit her," he said, and underneath his lighthearted tone was an undertone of absolute seriousness.

Lily held up her hands in surrender. "On my honor."

They got to their feet and brushed the grass off their butts. Before they walked away I looked up at Lily. "You and your Hunters need any combat gear or weapons?" I asked, hooking a thumb toward the open armory door. "We've got plenty."

"We're good, CJ," she assured me. "Lady Artemis hooked us up with some new and improved gear. Just wait till you see our fatigues. They're badass." I had no doubt.

After Noah and Lily made their exit, I hung the clipboard from a hook inside the armory then closed up shop for the day. It was still a half-hour until dinner, so I took a quick shower before heading to the dining pavilion.

The pavilion was crowded. The twenty or so Hunters sitting at the Artemis table filled in the ever-present black hole that was table eight. This was my fifth summer at Camp Half-Blood, and in that time, the Hunters of Artemis had never visited until now. Sure, I'd crossed paths with them winter before last, and I'd gotten to know their lieutenant, Lily, in that time, but this was the first time I'd seen them all simply sitting together. When I saw them in New Orleans, it was during the heat of battle at night, and I wasn't able to get a good look at them all. Now, as I sat down to my supper, I could size them up.

They were all very pretty girls of a variety of ethnicities, ranging in appearance from age twelve to about sixteen. But I knew from experience that their appearance was just a façade. Once a girl joins the Hunt, she stops aging physically. Lily herself appeared to be twelve years-old, the age she was when she joined, but in reality she was in her early twenties—twenty-two or twenty-three, I think. The other Hunters could very well be anywhere from twelve to a thousand years-old or more. Dad told me he'd known a Hunter who was two millennia-old and spoke in annoying Old English. He'd also said she was one of the bravest people he'd ever met. Looking at the girls sitting at table eight, I could see bravery in all of them, along with wisdom, tenacity, and in most, a scathing contempt that was directed at me for staring. Most Hunters were not a fan of the male gender.

And I wasn't the only one who was gawking. Most campers had never encountered a Hunter, let alone the whole group, and they stared and whispered in fascination of our new arrivals. It was all kind of awkward.

After dinner, we all went to the amphitheatre for the campfire, and instead of the normal sing-along, Chiron introduced the Hunters, and we were left to mingle and get acquainted with our new allies. Aside from a few bloody noses handed out by the least tolerant Hunters, it went well. I reminded the counselors of the meeting tomorrow, told Lily about it, then dismissed everyone to their cabins.

When I got to my cabin, I stared at my bunk for a while, contemplating whether or not I should set my alarm to go off every hour so I wouldn't get sucked into another nightmare. I'd had a hypnotherapy session that morning with the counselor of the Hypnos cabin, so I decided I'd take my chances without the alarm. I was awakened at three in the morning anyway, but not by my alarm or a nightmare.

I was a fairly heavy sleeper. I wasn't a demigod, so I didn't have that natural awareness that would bring me out of sleep at the slightest noise. I never heard my cabin door open and close and never heard footfalls across the hardwood floor. What woke me was a body slipping into my bed and curling up against me. I didn't have to open my eyes, because the scent that now filled the room told me who was here. The scent was lavender and the who was Lexie.

I wrapped my arms around my girlfriend and sleepily said, "Hey, you."

"Hey," she returned then gave me a little kiss.

"I didn't think you'd be here till tomorrow."

"I was able to get a seat on the red-eye," she said. "I didn't want to miss the counselors' meeting, and I really missed you. Really, _really_, missed you."

I won't go into the details of what happened after that, but let's just say that was some love that was long overdue.

Thunder rumbled outside, and Lexie lifted her head off my chest and grinned at me. "Zeus is angry," she mused.

"Probably at me for what I just did to his granddaughter."

"Was it worth angering the king of the gods?"

I smiled. "Absolutely."

She gave me a long kiss then climbed out of bed. "I'd better go."

"I wish you would stay," I said.

"We've been over this, CJ. You know I can't. I'm not even supposed to be in here, much less spending the night. You know the rules."

I sighed. "Yeah, I know."

"Just be patient. When summer's over, it'll be different."

What she meant was that we'd be going to the same university in the fall, and we could have sleepovers anytime we wanted. Sleepovers… That made me flashback to a time when our sleepovers consisted of defending our pillow fort from imaginary monsters and pigging out on M&Ms. Things were different now—_very_ different.

She gave me one last kiss and said, "Good night, CJ. I'll see you later."

"Love you," I said.

"Love you, too."

I didn't see Lexie again until the counselors' meeting at eleven. She'd likely slept-in, which was rare for her, but she'd been awake most of the night, so she needed her rest. She took the seat beside me at the ping-pong table in the rec room, not giving me a kiss or a wink and barely acknowledging my presence at all. That was just how she rolled. She kept her affections reasonably private, and this meeting was business, which meant she was all business. She was very professional in these situations, which I found admirable, because not everyone was. In fact, I could compare the goings on in the rec room to a circus.

The rec room was crowded. The counselor from every cabin was in attendance, as well as a few others. Lily, being the lieutenant of the Hunt, was there. Morgan, our resident Oracle, was in attendance. And Noah, who wasn't Cabin Eleven's counselor, but did bunk in that cabin, was there to represent those who didn't have a cabin of their own—singularities, I'd dubbed them, because I didn't like Mr. D's name for them: Strays.

Dionysus wasn't there; he'd stayed well away from most dealings that involved the conflict with the Rebellion. He said gods had no business in the affairs of mortals, which was laughable considering how many affairs the gods had had with mortals, but I understood what he meant. This wasn't a fight the gods could get involved in, not directly anyway. And I was glad the gods had kept their distance from this. I didn't need any more wild-cards in the game.

Chiron and Jason stood at the front of the room, surrounded by several digital screen monitors that were patched through to our allies: Romans, Amazons, Egyptians, Centaurs, and so on. Grover sat at a computer, ensuring the feed was good.

"Since everyone is accounted for," Chiron began. "I'll call this meeting to order."

Just because he made the announcement, didn't mean the room came to any sort of order. Demigods have short attentions spans. Their ADHD makes them overly-rambunctious. It wasn't until Chiron tossed a folder onto the table, photos of dead demigods spilling out, did the room fall silent.


End file.
